


all the things i'd never say

by skjei



Series: all the things i'd never say [1]
Category: Hockey RPF, Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Best Friends, Feelings Realization, High School, Hockey, brady centric i guess, brady is kinda whipped, they’re like 15 and 17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-02 01:36:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16295798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skjei/pseuds/skjei
Summary: When you’re sitting in a silent locker room, you tend to notice some things you didn’t notice before.The first thing Brady notices has to do with his longtime best friend, Jimmy Vesey, and it’s while he’s taking off his gloves.





	all the things i'd never say

The locker room is quiet after you lose.

That’s what any hockey player will tell you. Each kid drags themselves to their locker to agonizingly strip off each element of their pads. 

This is what fifteen-year-old Brady Skjei notices after making varsity as a sophomore. It’s not like anyone in the locker room – besides Ves – would talk to him in the first place. It’s the last thing, anyone – including Brady – would want to happen. They just sit there, in complete and utter silence, untying laces and waiting for their coach to arrive.

When you’re sitting in a silent locker room, you tend to notice some things you didn’t notice before.

The first thing Brady notices has to do with his longtime best friend, Jimmy Vesey, and it’s while he’s taking off his gloves.

Ves sits diagonally across from Brady in the locker room. On any given day, Jimmy is smiling, laughing, giving life to the locker room, as any captain should. 

But today, as Brady takes off his foul, red gloves, he notices tears welling in Jimmy’s eyes.

He notices that he wants to cry just looking at him.

Brady doesn’t know why, but just looking at Ves on the verge of tears just kills him. He just wants to walk over there and hug him until he smiles his signature, toothy grin again. 

Of course, he doesn’t, and Brady is left agonizingly staring at his best friend’s chocolate brown eyes coated with fresh tears.

When Brady is taking his helmet off, he notices how Jimmy runs his hand through his hair.

It’s a small gesture, but for Brady, it’s just so incredibly captivating and he can’t take his eyes off of him. He watches how Jimmy’s eyes are now closed, lips slightly parted as he combs his fingers through his damp hair and pushes it out of his face. 

Brady holds his breath.

He doesn’t understand, nor does he really want to. All he knows is that he just wants to keep watching Ves. Brady feels his hands shaking and his palms sweating. He clutches his helmet tightly, not daring to make any sound at all. 

Brady is pulling his arms out of the sleeves of his jersey when he notices that he really can’t take his eyes off of his best friend.

It’s a thought that makes him want to scream, to throw his jersey on the floor and bury his face into his hands, yet he does nothing and continues to stare at Jimmy. 

He realizes that he’s acting really fucking gay, but he knows that he’s not. He can’t be. 

Brady has his elbow pads off when he notices how Jimmy’s hair hangs over his face when he leans over to untie his skates.

His hair is wet–undoubtedly all from sweating earlier. It hangs just over his eyes, blocking his view from the rest of the locker room. Brady’s tongue feels dry and useless.

He’s beautiful. Fuck, Jimmy is _beautiful._

This time, Brady doesn’t even try to block out the thoughts that fill his mind. He doesn’t care.

The shoulder pads are off and skates are untied when Brady realizes how ridiculous he’s being. 

This is _Jimmy Vesey,_ for god’s sakes. Brady and Jimmy, Jimmy and Brady. Best friends, practically brothers. This isn’t _normal._

Brady leans back into his locker, sighing heavily. He wants… he doesn’t actually know what he wants. There are so many things he wants and doesn’t want and they all lead back to Jimmy.

Fuck feelings. 

Brady’s skates are off when Coach returns, but Brady’s attention isn’t on him.

Jimmy. He’s biting his lip, watching the coach intently as he paces around the room. Brady should be scared. They just lost for the first time, soiling their perfect record. Brady should be upset, he knows he played like shit and he knows that he let his team down. Brady is scared, but not in the way he should be. 

Brady notices how Jimmy’s left leg is bouncing up and down, an anxious habit of his. All Brady wants to do is rest his hand on his knee and tell him that it will all be okay. There’s nothing more he wants to fucking do right now, but of course, he doesn’t. He would never.

Coach is out of the room quickly, and Brady is pretty much done packing up. 

As he withers out of his hockey pants, he glances at Jimmy, how he’s pulled one leg up to his chest, perching his chin on his kneecap. Jimmy’s got his hat backward and his hands folded, looking around the room aimlessly. 

When his gaze reaches Brady, Brady looks down. 

The locker room becomes emptier by the minute as Brady packs up his gear. He can practically feel Jimmy’s gaze on him, burning into his body as he shoves his skates into his bag. He wants to look up, all he needs to do is look up.

He doesn’t.

Jimmy begins walking over to Brady, bag slung over his shoulder. He reaches Brady’s locker, noticing how Brady won’t look at him. Brady is standing up now, back facing Jimmy and grabbing his bag. He turns around, Jimmy only being a few inches away from him. Brady looks at his feet. 

Jimmy shifts his weight. “Ready to go, Bray?” 

Brady shivers at the nickname. “Yeah,” he says.

Jimmy stares at Brady’s who focus is anywhere but on Jimmy. He grabs both of Brady’s shoulders with his hands. 

“Bray, look at me.” Jimmy’s voice is demanding and Brady looks up. Jimmy's eyes are ridden with concern, Brady can tell. His chest feels tight, like he could explode at any second. His tongue feels fat and useless and he realizes that Jimmy is staring right into his fucking eyes. Brady doesn’t give anything away, fuck, why would he?

“You okay?” Jimmy asks, his hands still on Brady’s shoulders. Brady swallows the lump in his throat of all the things he wants to say. 

“Sure,” he replies. 

They close the locker room door behind them.

**Author's Note:**

> you'll definitely get more of these two from me ;)


End file.
